Laughter
by JLawismyinspiration
Summary: Sometimes, all you need is laughter. RATED T WARNING MAY CAUSE EXCESSIVE FEELS.


Disclaimer: If I owned _NCIS_, I wouldn't have had to write this fanfiction.

The empty desk was a problem. Not in the sense that they _needed_ another team member, because right now, the pain was still to fresh for anyone else to sit there. Gibbs glanced sideways at the desk and sighed. This desk. It had been empty too many times. Too many people passed through. he remembers the badge Viv left when she quit, and the sketchbook (along with the rest of her things) left by Kate. Like Kate, the desk still held many of Ziva's items, random papers and case files left behind like the rest of her life in America. Not that he blamed her. They hadn't spoken long when she called, just over half an hour, before she had said goodbye, that she loved him.

Still, the desk remained a problem. Whenever there was a break, or paperwork to be done, Gibbs would catch Tony staring at the empty desk. he knew Tony didn't just see Ziva there. He saw Kate, Viv, and many others who had never even sat in that chair, let alone set foot in the building. To Tony, that desk represented everything that had been left behind, whether he had wanted to or not.

Still, it was all Gibbs could do to hope that Ziva was fulfilling her dreams. Hell, he didn't even care about the dreams. He just hoped that wherever she was, she was happy.

Months had passed since the day Tony got off the red eye flight home from Israel. Although the dead look in his eye had since lessened, Gibbs could still feel the anguish seeping from Tony's every pore. Gibbs never thought he pray for the day when tony made another sexist frat boy comment.

But no, that didn't happen anymore, not even when Ziva had been with them, Thinking back now, Gibbs supposes that part of Tony died with Kate. Although Tony never hesitated to tease or joke around with Ziva or McGee, he had grown up over the past few years. But oh, how he wished for that old Tony back now. He needed something to fill the silence.

Still, cases took up most of the hours in the day, but most nights, without fail, Gibbs could find Tony in his basement, sitting on a stool , drinking bourbon from the bottle. About a month after Ziva left, the stories started. Stories that Gibbs had never heard solely because, at the time, they didn't mean anything. But one night, they just started pouring out. Tony was an amazing storyteller, Gibbs learned, even in his slightly drunk haze, the stories Tony told were so rich in detail and emotion, it was like being transported into another universe. Just him and Tony and that bottle of bourbon, watching real time action unfold around him. And the stories never ran out. Viv, Kate, Paula, Ziva and more, out of anyone he'd ever encountered, there seemed to be a story. Something there, a look a joke, a laugh, and he could remember all of them. the desk didn't seem as empty after one of those nights.

Seven months after Ziva left, the team had just finished a tough case. It was five am. No sense in going home when you had to back in the office in an hour. They sat at their desks, silently, keyboards clicking, pen tapping. Soaking in the presence of the empty desk.

Then the director appeared at the top of the stairs, calling them up to MTAC, for a call. Not sure what to expect, Gibbs, Tony and McGee, pulled their sleep deprived bodies out of their chairs and trooped up to MTAC. On the screen in MTAC, sat a man dressed in a suit and tie. he looked serious, but smiled warmly as they approached the screen. he introduced himself as part of the French Government, and apologized for calling them at such an early hour. he began to explain a long a winding story about a cafe on the east side of Paris, and a video camera. Gibbs was pulled back into focus at the word Mossad.

"Mossad" he spoke, not entirely catching the man's next sentence.

"Yes. Mossad," he answered warmly, "they thought you would like to see this."

With the director's go ahead, the man clicked his keyboard and the screen changed from the man to a street camera outside an cafe. At first, Gibbs did not understand, what they were seeing, was this some kind of hit? A lead up to a case?

Then he saw the small dark haired woman sitting at one of the tables. There was another young woman sitting across from her. At first he was angry. Why bring her memory back after they had all just started to heal.

Then something incredible happened. the girl across from her leaned over and said something.

She started to laugh. A real, full laugh that startled the others at the cafe, and on the street. A laugh that threw her friend into the same hysterics. A full, hilarious laugh, that in his eight years with her, Gibbs had never heard. She threw her head back as she dissolved into more hysterics with her friend, not even trying to compose herself.

He heard a chuckle beside him. He turned to see Tony and McGee, exchange glances, and dissolve into laughter themselves. He felt laughter escape from his own lips. If someone had walked into MTAC at that moment, they would have been concerned to see the three NCIS agents standing in front of the Multiple Threat Assessment Center screen completely enveloped in laughter. Or maybe they wouldn't. After all, they deserved a good laugh.

And from three thousand miles away, they got it. Half an hour later, sitting as his desk, Gibbs glanced over at Tony. He was about to sigh, seeing the younger agent gazing again at the empty desk. But then, he noticed something. The spark, that had been missing the several months, back in Tony's eyes.

In the beginning, all he remembered was the bad, sometimes, it takes laughter to remember the good.


End file.
